Cooling the Magic
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Strangely, the Sorting Hat sorts Harry into the hospital wing - definitely a first in the history of Hogwarts. Set in Harry's first year. How can an illness help him find the power the Dark Lord knows not? Completely AU, partly OOC, sick!Harry
1. Chapter 1

**Cooling the Magic **

**Chapter 1**

A few days after his trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid, Harry absentmindedly worked in the Dursleys' garden, while he tried to remember what he had read in his new school books the night before. '_They're all interesting_,' he mused. '_I think the Potions book is the most intriguing, because brewing must be a bit like cooking. Maybe it'll be the easiest for me. On the other hand, Transfiguration and Charms seem to be more amazing, because I can use a Spell or a Charm to change an object into something else. How nice would it be to just spell the weeds away and have a nice garden without having to spend the whole day in the heat weeding_.'

All of a sudden, he noticed that his body... '_No, the insides of my body_,' he realised, felt incredibly tickly. '_Strange_,' he thought as he waited for the sensation to go away. However, the feeling did not leave his body but instead intensified. A week later he felt all over itchy, and by the end of the holidays, his body hurt from his head to his feet, and he was feeling hot and cold at the same time. '_I wonder what's wrong with me_,' he thought, terrified. '_I just hope it'll go away before I have to go to Hogwarts_.'

Unfortunately, his wish didn't come true, and by the time he boarded the Hogwarts Express, he felt outright ill. Luckily, he had much experience in hiding his ailments from his relatives, so that none of his new classmates noticed that Harry seemed not to be in top form. Only Hermione saw that he had dark rings under his eyes and asked gently if he was feeling all right, causing Harry to reassure the girl that he was fine.

Harry sighed in relief as he waited to meet the Sorting Hat, knowing that he would only have to make it through dinner and then would probably soon be able to enter his dormitory and go to bed. '_It feels good to be able to sit down_,' he thought as a slight shiver ran through his body when Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

'_Hmmm; that's not good. What am I going to do with you?_' a small voice suddenly penetrated Harry's mind.

'_Not Slytherin_,' Harry thought feverishly. '_Other than that I don't mind_.'

'_Hmmm, well, you're in no condition to go to Slytherin anyway_,' the Hat informed him curtly and shouted into the Hall, "Hospital wing."

Like in a daze, Harry stood up when Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat off of his head. "Mr. Potter, are you feeling sick?" she queried crisply, while the Great Hall became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

"I'm fine," Harry replied softly, throwing the professor an anxious look.

"Very well then; just take a seat at the Gryffindor table and come to the Head table after dinner. We'll discuss with my colleagues what to do with you after the Welcoming Feast," McGonagall instructed him gently, pointing over to her House table.

"Here Harry," a voice called him from the Gryffindor table, and Harry automatically followed the invitation, realising that it was Hermione, who had shouted his name.

He gratefully sat on the seat between her and one of Ron's twin brothers, mulling over the Sorting Hat's strange decision as the Sorting continued.

"Harry, this has never happened before in the history of Hogwarts," Hermione informed him eagerly. "I told you on the train that you look sick. Did the Hat tell you a reason why he couldn't properly sort you?"

Harry groaned inwardly. '_So much about not being a freak here_,' he thought in annoyance. "No, he didn't say anything."

"Well, then tell us, Harry..."

"... what's wrong with you?"

"There must be a reason..."

"... for the Sorting Hat..."

"... to act so strangely," the twins asked, completing each other's sentences, before they finished together.

"I don't know," Harry admitted in a barely audible voice, before he took a sip of his pumpkin juice, noticing that it felt cool and soothing to his hot body.

"Are you going to remain in Gryffindor?" the boy on Hermione's other side, who had introduced himself as Percy Weasley, asked interestedly.

"I have no idea. Professor McGonagall told me to come to her after the feast and they were going to decide what to do with me," Harry replied, sighing. '_Why me? Why do such things always happen to me? Why can't I have just a normal life like everyone else? No one in the history of Hogwarts seems to have been sorted into the hospital wing, so why me?_' he thought in absolute desperation, noticing that he felt worse by the minute.

"Harry, are you not going to eat anything?" Hermione suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts, eyeing him in concern.

"Oh, I didn't even realise that the food appeared on the table," Harry replied in surprise, "but I don't want to eat right now. I'm too upset about the matter with the Hat."

"Don't let such a foolish old piece of cloth anger you, Harry..." one of the twins instructed him.

"... as long as you pretend to belong to Gryffindor..."

"... everything will be all right," the twins finished together.

Harry liked the twins immediately. "I'd love to be in Gryffindor," he said thoughtfully, before he became distracted by the other first years, who were just beginning to introduce themselves.

Finally, dinner was finished, and Harry anxiously walked up to the Head table.

"Mr. Potter, how nice of you to join us," Dumbledore greeted him gently. "That was a rather strange Sorting tonight. Minerva, Severus, Pomona, Filius and Poppy, please be so kind as to accompany us to my office."

The four Heads of House and the Mediwitch rose from their seats, and Harry anxiously followed the professors out of the Great Hall through a back door and up a small flight of stairs that ended in front of a gargoyle.

"Don't worry, Harry; I'm sure everything will clear up soon," the plump female professor, who was walking next to him, said in a soothing voice, causing Harry to throw her a grateful look.

A few minutes later, Harry found himself in the most interesting room he had ever seen. Before he could intensely look around though, he was ushered to a chair and the Headmaster offered him a lemon drop, which Harry politely declined. Dumbledore quickly introduced the four Heads of House and Madam Pomfrey to Harry and explained that the Sorting Hat had never before sent a student to the hospital wing, before he addressed the Hat, which was residing on one of the shelves. "Could you please explain why you sorted Harry into the hospital wing?"

"Because that's where I feel he belongs. Otherwise, I'd have sorted him into Slytherin," the Hat said in a huff, while Harry heard McGonagall mumble something like "Stupid old rag gone nuts."

"Slytherin?" Dumbledore queried in obvious surprise, causing Harry to groan inwardly. "Very well, in that case Severus is Harry's Head of House. That's at least a reasonable decision, even if unexpected. Now, Poppy, I'd like you to check on Harry and see if you can find the reason for the Hat's choice."

Madam Pomfrey stepped in front of Harry, seeing that he seemed to become smaller on his seat, and said softly, "Don't worry, sweetie, I'm merely going to cast a diagnostic spell on you. I won't hurt you." With that, the Mediwitch waved her wand over Harry, until a small parchment emerged from the tip of her wand.

The tall professor, who Harry remembered as to be the Head of Slytherin, stepped over to glance at the parchment over the Healer's shoulder, quirking an eyebrow in surprise at the result.

_

* * *

tbc..._

_ A little story I wrote back in summer. I hope you'll like it!_

_I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


	2. Chapter 2

**Cooling the Magic 2**

Madam Pomfrey let out a long sigh, before she turned to her colleagues. "Mr. Potter seems to have contracted the magic fever. However, that was four weeks ago and it remained untreated."

Harry noticed that Dumbledore's face fell, while McGonagall and the other two Heads of House threw the Healer questioning looks. Only Snape's face remained completely blank. "It means that the boy's magic is burning. The magic fever consists of several phases. In the first phase, all parts of the body, in which the magic circulates, tickle, in the second step they begin to itch, and in the third phase, they hurt. When it comes to the final phase, the magic burns everything within the body, and the victim dies of the fever. Due to the neglect of the illness, Mr. Potter seems to have already reached the third phase," he explained in a soft, baritone voice, causing Harry to throw him a horrified look.

"Is there any method of treatment?" McGonagall asked, looking as terrified at the news as Harry felt.

"Yes Minerva," Pomfrey said calmingly and explained, "If we had known about it during the first two phases, we could have simply treated him with a potion. In the third phase, the illness is too much progressed for a normal potion. He needs a very special magic cooling potion, which however can only be administered intravenous. Therefore, we must connect him to an I.V. over twelve hours each day, or maybe even more if his fever rises when he begins to cast magic in class. He needs to be constantly monitored." She sighed, before she added, "Unfortunately, this treatment won't heal Mr. Potter from the disease. It merely prevents him from entering the final phase. The illness itself is not curable, at least not yet." She exchanged a look with Snape, but the Potions Master remained quiet.

Dumbledore thoughtfully stroked his long beard. "Very well then, Poppy; you and Severus as his Head of House are responsible for Mr. Potter. I assume that you're going to assign him one of the teacher's rooms behind your office?"

"I believe that would be the best," Pomfrey agreed, throwing the Slytherin Head a questioning look.

Snape nodded. "That would be agreeable. Mr. Potter, did you not notice that you were ill?"

"I thought it would go away by itself. My relatives always taught me not to complain about illnesses," Harry admitted in a small voice that caused McGonagall to throw the Headmaster a furious look.

Snape shot Harry a look of disbelief and sneered, "Don't tell me, Mr. Potter, that your doting relatives didn't fawn about you when you were sick."

"That's enough, Severus," the Headmaster said sharply.

"Then he wouldn't be in this situation," McGonagall scoffed.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, accompany us," Snape said evenly as he turned to the door.

Harry slowly followed the teacher and the Healer through the empty corridors, noticing in amazement that the people in the pictures on both sides of their way were moving. '_Magic_,' he thought, wondering if he still liked magic after what he had heard in the Headmaster's office a few minutes ago.

Madam Pomfrey led him through a huge room with many empty beds and through what seemed to be her office into a small corridor. "This is the teachers' part of the hospital wing, and I'll assign you the first room here just behind my office," she explained in a gentle voice. "I will ask Misty, my personal house-elf, to prepare the room for you, so that it'll look less like a hospital room. Now let's get you into bed. I can't connect you to the I.V. yet, because Professor Snape needs to brew the magic cooling potion first, but in the meantime, I will give you a fever reducer and a light sleeping draught, so that you can rest, until we have the potion you'll need. We must get your fever down; otherwise, you won't be able to attend classes tomorrow morning."

Snape smirked as Pomfrey transfigured Harry's clothes into soft pyjamas with a pattern of roaring dragons and motioned him to lie down. "I'll be back with the potion in a little more than three hours. I have to conduct a small House meeting, before I can brew the potion," he announced in his silky voice, before he excused himself.

Harry sighed in relief as his achy head came to lie on the pillow, unaware of the concerned look he received from the Mediwitch. She carefully laid her cold hand on his forehead to assess his temperature and frowned as she raised the boy's head just enough to make him drink two potions. "Don't worry, Harry; everything will be all right. Are you feeling a bit better now, sweetie?" she asked softly as she adjusted an icepack to his forehead.

"Yeah, but head hurts," Harry mumbled, slurring the words as the potions kicked in and sleep overcame him instantly.

Pomfrey waved her wand, casting the most necessary alert on the child, before she retired to her office, knowing that her friends among the teachers would come to have tea with her and enquire about the first student that had been sorted straight into her domain.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Later in the evening, Harry woke up by a cold hand on his forehead. Like from far away he could hear what he recognised as Professor Snape's voice, but his mind was too foggy to understand the meaning of the words that were uttered softly. He wanted to open his eyes and ask the professor what he was doing to his left hand, wanted to tell him that it hurt, but the effects of the sleeping potion Pomfrey had administered earlier were too strong, and he couldn't help drifting off to sleep again.

When he was able to properly wake up, he realised that light fell through the window next to his bed. '_The view onto the lake is beautiful_,' he mused as he suddenly noticed that his left hand was stuck to something. '_Oh, that must be the I.V. they talked about. I wondered what it was last night_.' As he turned around to glance at the I.V. stand, he became aware of the fact that his room didn't look like a hospital room anymore. Not only had his bed changed into a huge four poster bed, but the white sideboards had been replaced by a wardrobe, a large bookshelf and a huge desk, equipped with three comfortable looking chairs. '_What a wonderful room_,' he thought. '_Even if it is still a pity that I'm not allowed to sleep in a dormitory with my classmates, this room is the best I ever had_.'

As if she had known that he had just woken up, Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room. "Good morning, sweetie. How are you feeling?" she asked gently, slowly laying her hand on his forehead.

"Better I guess," Harry replied hesitantly, sensing that it wouldn't be adequate to tell the Healer that he felt fine.

"Harry, I want you to always tell me the truth," Pomfrey said in a stern voice. "Otherwise, I won't be able to help you." She let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I have to explain a few things to you, and I need to set up a few rules in order for you to be able to attend classes. First of all, I must reduce the spells I cast at you on a minimum. Therefore, I always need you to tell me how you feel, and we must check your temperature with Muggle methods." She pulled a Muggle thermometer out of her robe pocket and coaxed it into Harry's mouth, noticing that he shivered at the cold touch. "If your fever is not too high, you may eat breakfast in the Great Hall and attend your morning classes; however, you must return here for an hour at lunchtime, so that I can connect you to the I.V. for an hour. Depending on high your fever is, I might want you to take a nap during that time, and depending on your condition after the break, you may or may not go to your afternoon classes. After dinner, I want you to come back here in any case. You need to be connected to the I.V. then overnight. Feel free to invite one or two friends to join you here in your room and study together."

The beeping of the device in Harry's mouth interrupted the Healer's explanation, and she quickly plucked it from his lips. "Thirty-eight point two (100.7)," she said thoughtfully. "Normally, I would keep you in bed with a fever; however, in your case, I'm afraid I have to allow you to attend classes, provided that you feel well enough and promise to come back immediately if you notice that your condition worsens."

"Will the fever go away eventually?" Harry asked softly, feeling sweat build on his forehead while he was shivering at the same time.

"I'm afraid not," Pomfrey said sympathetically, "at least not as long as your immune system doesn't give up, which would be fatal. Maybe Professor Snape will be able to find a cure, but I can't promise you anything of course."

"What does Professor Snape teach?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Potions. Professor Snape is the Potions Master; however, on his way to the Potions Mastery he also took the first Healer's degree, so that he has much experience in the Healing area as well. If anyone will be able to help you, it'll be him," Pomfrey explained gently.

'_Speaking of the devil..._' Harry mused as his Head of House entered the small room mere seconds later.

The two adults conferred for a moment, while Harry watched the Giant Squid play in the lake under his window, before Snape addressed him directly. "Mr. Potter, are you feeling well enough to attend classes? And I want an honest answer."

"At least I'd like to try," Harry replied, glancing shyly at the professor.

"Well then, I suggest that you take a quick shower, and I'll accompany you to the Great Hall to introduce you to your Slytherin classmates," Snape continued in a soft voice as he gently removed the connection to the I.V. stand from Harry's hand and wrapped his hand in white gauze, explaining, "I won't take the needle off each time. We'll just leave it as it is, so that we can connect you again faster later on. Your housemates will get used to the fact that your left hand is bandaged."

Harry nodded his understanding and grabbed a few clothes on his way to the adjacent bathroom, noticing that he felt a bit dizzy. Ten minutes later, he stepped into the Mediwitch's office, knowing that the professor was waiting for him.

Snape shot him a sharp look. "Are you sure you're feeling well enough, Mr. Potter?"

"My headache is bothering me a little and I'm a bit dizzy, but other than that I feel fine," Harry admitted in a barely audible voice.

"Now that we have cut the I.V. connection, your fever will probably go up and so will the dizziness," Snape explained thoughtfully. "I can't give you anything for it right now. However, I can give you a headache potion. Is it only your head or does your whole body hurt?"

"Head is the worst," Harry whispered, hardly able to keep his eyes open.

"Don't dwell on the taste, just gulp it down," the professor advised him as he pressed a small phial against Harry's lips, and Harry felt the headache subside instantly.

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "All right, I'm ready now. Which books will I need today though?"

Snape pulled a timetable out of his robe pocket, handing it to Harry. "Only consider your morning classes for the time being. We'll see about your afternoon classes."

"Yes sir," Harry replied and quickly fetched his school bag together with his Transfiguration and Potions books. Then he followed the professor out of the hospital wing, seeing that Madam Pomfrey was busying herself with an older student in the first bed.

Snape led Harry to the Slytherin table. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini, this is Mr. Potter. Please remember what we talked about and make sure everyone knows that he belongs to us."

"Yes sir," Draco and Blaise replied simultaneously and moved aside, so that Harry could sit between them.

"Harry, you need to eat something," Blaise told him a few minutes later, seeing that Harry merely drank a few glasses of pumpkin juice.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry," Harry replied softly.

"Harry, you have to eat. Professor Snape instructed us to keep an eye of you, and we'll have to inform the professor if you don't eat, and you'll earn a toad," Draco said warningly, causing Harry to hesitantly butter a piece of toast.

"A toad?" he queried, and Draco explained the Slytherin internal system of snakes as positive points and toads as negative points.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Snape had informed his House about Harry's problems and about the fact that the Sorting Hat had announced if not for his illness Harry would have been sorted into Slytherin. "He will be treated as a Slytherin, and he'll be able to gain and loose House points for our House as well as toads and snakes within our House. He will also have full access to Slytherin House, even if he isn't allowed to stay in the dormitory overnight," the teacher had explained and had asked the first years to keep an eye on the boy.

Harry noticed quickly that the students at the Slytherin table were as nice and had as much fun together as those at the Gryffindor table, and if he had felt a small bit of regret at the fact that he had to sit with the Slytherins, it was gone by the time breakfast was over. Draco and Blaise kept Harry firmly in their midst as they walked up to the Transfiguration classroom and ushered him on a seat between them. Harry didn't mind, because both of them were very friendly and told him about the long monologue their Head of House had held at the House meeting the evening before.

He sighed in relief as he let himself sink on his seat, unaware of the concerned look the cat that was sitting on the teacher's desk threw him. '_Wow; Transfiguration is really cool,' _he mused as he observed the cat change back into Professor McGonagall. However, when the professor made them try to transfigure matches into needles, he noticed that it was more difficult than he had expected and that he felt more feverish and dizzier with each attempt to cast the spell. '_I just can't do that_,' he thought in frustration, putting his achy head in his hands.

_

* * *

tbc..._

_Thank you so much for your kind comments and your interest in this story!_

_I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


	3. Chapter 3

**Cooling the Magic 3**

"Mr. Potter, are you feeling all right?" he heard McGonagall ask in a small voice and raised his head, turning glassy green eyes to the professor. "Do you want to return to the hospital wing, Harry? You don't seem well enough to follow the class."

"No. Please let me stay," Harry whispered, feeling his flushed cheeks heat up even more at the unwanted attention.

"Very well then, stop trying the Transfiguration and rest for a while. Just watch the others," McGonagall instructed him and turned around to commend Hermione, who was the first who had managed to change her match.

Harry intensely observed his classmates practise the spell, and it was almost at the end of the class that he realised what Hermione was doing differently from the others. The wand movement was slightly different. He tried to copy Hermione's wand movement only with his right hand and without putting any magic into the practice, and only when he thought he was able to do it correctly, he used his wand and cast the proper spell, causing his match to turn into a needle.

"Very well done, Mr. Potter; five points to Slytherin," McGonagall commended him and dismissed the class, before she leaned down to Harry. "You did that very well, Harry. You need to figure out for yourself, when and how much magic you're able to cast without worsening your condition. Since no one here at Hogwarts has any experience with your illness, you must try to find out what is best for you, and if you're not able to participate in a practice, you only have to inform your teachers. Everyone knows about your illness and will understand," she said in a soft voice.

"All right Professor. Thank you," Harry said gratefully and hurried behind Draco and Blaise, who were waiting for him at the door together with Hermione and Millicent.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Hermione asked in concern.

"Yes, if I find out what I'm able to do and what not I'll be fine," Harry replied softly.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Professor McGonagall told us what happened to you."

"It's all right. As long as I'm allowed to attend classes, I don't really mind. Madam Pomfrey has even allowed me to invite my friends to my room to study together in the evenings."

"I'm afraid I have to skip that," Draco said, sighing. "My father ordered me to help Crabbe and Goyle, and they're both too stupid for their own good. So I'll be stuck helping them with their homework."

However, Blaise, Hermione and Millicent immediately agreed to study together in Harry's room, and Harry felt very happy to have found so many nice friends on his first day of classes, especially in spite of being strange... yet again. '_I hope Pomfrey won't mind if I bring three friends instead of one or two like she suggested_,' he mused as he followed the others into the Potions classroom, taking the seat next to Blaise, while Hermione and Millicent sat on the other side of the aisle.

Professor Snape held a long monologue, to which Harry was listening with interest, glad that he didn't have to use any magic. Finally, the teacher looked around the class and sneered, "Another Weasley. Let's see if you understand as much of Potions as your twin brothers. Mr. Weasley, what would I get if I inserted moon fern, harvested at a full moon's night, into a potion and stirred counter clockwise?"

"I don't know, sir," Ron replied in an annoyed tone.

"You don't know?" the professor sneered. "Pity. Who can enlighten us?"

Hermione immediately raised her hand, and Harry chuckled inwardly as he realised that the girl was so eager that she could hardly restrain herself to the chair. Hesitantly, he raised his right hand just a little bit.

"Mr. Potter?" Snape queried, and surprise flashed into his eyes just for a short instant, before he returned to his blank expression.

"An explosion, sir," Harry replied softly, remembering the warning he had read in one of the last chapters of his Potions book.

"Exactly. Five points to Slytherin, Mr. Potter. Now, we're going to brew a simple potion and I hope that even the dunderheads among you..."

As soon as the professor waved his wand at the blackboard to display the recipe, Harry stopped listening and eagerly tried to decipher the teacher's meticulous writing. He enjoyed himself brewing his potion, only barely noticing that Neville's potion exploded at the other side of the room. A few minutes before the end of the class, he happily bottled his potion and placed it on the teacher's desk. Together with Blaise, Hermione and Millicent, Harry left the Potions classroom, glad that he hadn't been singled out again and had been able to do his work just like any other student.

"I'll meet you in our first afternoon class. I have to return to the hospital wing," he told the others as they reached the entrance hall.

"We'll accompany you," Millicent said firmly, causing Hermione and Blaise nod.

"But you'll have to eat lunch," Harry objected, lightly leaning to the wall to steady himself.

"Are you all right?" Hermione queried worriedly.

"Yes, I'm just a bit dizzy," Harry admitted.

"Well, that's it. We'll come with you, and if Pomfrey throws us out, we can still go to the Great Hall," Millicent decided, gently grabbing Harry's left arm.

Blaise walked at Harry's right side to steady him if necessary, and the small group made its way through the hospital wing into Harry's room, causing the Mediwitch to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"Please, can we eat lunch here together with Harry? It must be horrible for him to eat all on his own," Hermione asked quickly, causing a small smile to flash over the Healer's face.

"You may keep Harry company; however, I need to take his temperature and connect him to the I.V. first," Pomfrey replied and called Misty to order lunch for four students, observing how Harry visibly relaxed as he lay down in spite of the fact that she stuck the thermometer under his tongue.

Under his friends' watchful eyes, Harry managed to eat a few bites of his lunch, before the Mediwitch ordered him to lie down until the beginning of the afternoon classes. Later on, Harry somehow managed to drag himself through Charms and History of Magic and was glad when he could return to his room to rest afterwards.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

During the following weeks, the four friends made it a habit to study together in Harry's room. To his disappointment, Harry was not allowed to attend the flying lessons, because Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape feared that flying would aggravate his condition. He was also exempt from the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, since he had admitted to the Healer that his headache used to flare in Professor Quirrell's company. Instead, Professor Snape gave him private Defence lessons in Harry's own room on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

One day, Hermione asked, "Harry, the day after tomorrow is Halloween. Will you be allowed to attend the feast in the evening?"

"Oh right, Halloween dinner lasts much longer than normal dinner," Blaise agreed. "You should ask Madam Pomfrey beforehand."

When his friends accompanied Harry to his room at lunchtime, Hermione used the opportunity to enquire about Halloween, causing the Mediwitch to smile. "Of course, Harry will be able to attend, provided that his condition allows it. Harry, what is your last afternoon class on Thursday?"

"History of Magic," Harry replied thoughtfully, "and before that is Defence, so I have a free period."

"Well, the ghost probably won't miss you," Pomfrey said, smirking. "In that case, I'll just keep you here from lunchtime onwards, and then you're free to attend the feast for a few hours."

Harry thanked the Healer profusely, before he obediently ate his lunch, glad that his friends were allowed and willing to keep him company every day. The four friends spent the following two evenings planning their disguise and had a lot of fun. However, when Harry woke up in the morning of the Halloween feast, he had a terrible headache. '_What happened? I just hope it'll be better tonight,_' he mused, when Madam Pomfrey's soft voice penetrated his ears.

"Good morning, Harry; ready for your check-up?" she asked gently like every morning, when she came to disconnect the I.V. and take his temperature to assess if his condition would allow him to attend classes.

"Yes. Good morning," Harry whispered, forcing his eyes open.

The Mediwitch observed in concern that he closed his eyes again as soon as she had coaxed the thermometer under his tongue and remained in that condition until the device beeped. Only when she took it back, he opened his eyes, throwing her a questioning look.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Pomfrey asked in concern, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Your temperature is a tad higher than your normal fever."

"My head hurts badly; other than that I'm fine," Harry replied softly, keeping his eyes closed.

"All right; I'll give you a potion for the headache, but you're going to stay in bed during the first morning class. What is your first class?"

"Charms," Harry replied, feeling strangely relieved that he didn't have to get up immediately.

"I'll inform Professor Flitwick," Pomfrey promised and bustled away to fetch the potion.

An hour later, Harry woke up to a cold hand on his forehead. "I assume that you're going to miss your second class as well," Pomfrey said softly, throwing him a questioning look.

"No, I don't want to miss Transfiguration," Harry said sleepily. "I'm feeling better now."

Not wanting to bother the boy by checking on him the Muggle way again, the Mediwitch agreed and quickly wrote a message to her friend Minerva, asking her to keep an eye on the boy, before she transfigured Harry's pyjamas into his normal school robes.

"Harry, where have you been?" Millicent was the first to notice Harry as he slipped into the Transfiguration classroom and quickly handed Pomfrey's note to the teacher, before he took his usual seat between Hermione and Blaise.

"I wasn't feeling well this morning," Harry whispered, causing his friends to throw him concerned looks.

"And you're feeling better now?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Harry, you look worse for the wear. You should have stayed in bed."

Harry sighed. "Maybe, but if I keep skipping classes, I won't be allowed to attend the Halloween feast tonight," he whispered back, fiercely rubbing his forehead against the headache that was back full force.

"Harry," Professor McGonagall, who had been standing right in front of him, said sternly, "If you're allowed to attend the feast or not has nothing to do with the question if you attended classes. You're clearly too ill to be in class right now. Ms. Granger, please take Mr. Potter back to the hospital wing and inform Madam Pomfrey that I sent you."

"Harry, don't worry," Hermione said soothingly as they returned to Harry's room, "if you can't attend the feast tonight, we'll just stay in your room. We'll still be able to have fun, just like we do every evening."

Madam Pomfrey didn't make a fuss but just put Harry back to bed and handed him a potion that made him drift off to sleep in the blink of an eye. "We'll see if he'll be well enough for the feast," she said to Hermione while she connected Harry's hand to the I.V. "He won't wake up for a few hours, so you might as well go back to your class."

"All right," Hermione agreed and hurried back to the Transfiguration classroom. By the time the three friends returned after their last afternoon class, Harry was still asleep.

"I'm afraid he won't be able to attend the feast," they heard Madam Pomfrey say to Professor Snape, who was just exchanging the I.V. bag. "He looks so flushed that I really have to keep myself from casting a diagnostic spell on him," she admitted to her colleague, who laid his slender hand on the boy's forehead, causing Harry to stir at the ice-cold touch.

"Poppy, he is burning up," Snape said in a soft voice. "He won't be able to attend the feast." With a flick of his wand, he spelled Harry's pyjama top down over his shoulder and rubbed his hands together to warm them a bit, before he carefully slid the thermometer under the boy's armpit.

The students observed in amazement that Harry didn't even stir when the professor pulled the glassy stick out and gently pushed his pyjama top back to its former position. "Forty point two," he read from the display, causing the Healer to let out a long sigh.

"Severus, in that case I need to cast a diagnostic spell on him. He merely complained about a headache this morning, so that I have no idea what's wrong with him."

"Well, it'll certainly bring his fever up even more, but it'll have the merit that we can counter whatever is ailing him right away," Snape agreed and stepped aside.

"The wizard's flu," Pomfrey announced a wave of her wand later and bustled away to fetch a few phials. "This is a preventive potion," she told the students, who were silently watching the commotion from Harry's desk, and handed each of them a phial, before she emptied the content of a larger phial into the I.V. bag. "Severus, please excuse me with Albus for tonight. I can't leave Harry alone."

"We can stay here with him," Blaise offered quickly. "We're three, so there will still be two with him, if one of us goes to fetch you in case he needs you."

"That's true, Poppy," Snape agreed, turning to the students. "You have to make sure that the I.V. continues to flow, and you have to check his temperature once an hour. Other than that, just watch him and call us if you notice that something is off."

"We'll do," Hermione promised, and the other two nodded their heads.

"If he wakes up, please ask Misty to bring something to eat for him and try if he is able to stomach some chicken broth," Pomfrey instructed the students, who reassured her to care for their friend.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

An hour later, Harry just began to stir when Madam Pomfrey hurried back into the hospital wing. "Professor Quirrell has seen a troll in the dungeons," she gasped. "All students have been instructed to return to their dormitories. You either have to hurry back to your common rooms, or you must stay here until we hear that the troll is gone."

"We'll stay with Harry," Hermione replied immediately, causing Millicent and Blaise to nod their heads.

"Very well then," Pomfrey said absently as she leaned over Harry to feel his forehead. "Still very hot," she muttered to herself. "How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked softly.

"Sick," Harry mumbled, keeping his eyes closed, even as the Mediwitch took his temperature.

Suddenly, a white bird appeared in front of the Healer, turning into a small parchment as she reached for it. Her expression turned stern as she said, "Ms. Granger, please check Harry's temperature when the reading is finished; I need to leave for a while. A teacher has been attacked by the troll." With that, she hurried away.

_

* * *

tbc..._

_Thank you very much for your kind comments!_

_I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


	4. Chapter 4

**Cooling the Magic 4**

It was nearly two hours later when Madam Pomfrey returned to Harry's room, where his three friends were gathered around his bed, talking in hushed voices, while Harry was gripping his head in agony.

"What's wrong?" Pomfrey queried as she rushed to Harry's side.

"My head," Harry groaned, "it hurts terribly. I think it's my scar though. Someone seems to be very happy and is shouting something of finally having a corporal body. What happened?"

"Here, drink this," Pomfrey instructed the boy, pressing a phial against his lips, before she made a bird appear out of the tip of her wand, causing Harry's friends to observe in amazement how the bird disappeared through the wall.

A short while later, the Headmaster entered the small room closely followed by professors McGonagall and Snape. Harry's friends immediately retreated to his desk to be out of the way but still be able to listen.

"Please make it short, Albus; Mr. Potter is very ill," Pomfrey said sternly, before she turned to Harry. "Harry, can you please open your eyes for a moment? Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape are here to speak with you."

Harry blinked and finally forced his eyes open, throwing his Head of House a questioning look. However, it was the Headmaster, who chose to speak first. "Harry, did I understand it correctly that your scar hurts and you can all of a sudden feel someone else's emotions through the scar?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied miserably, fiercely rubbing his forehead.

"Don't do that, Harry." Snape leaned over him, gently prying his hands from his burning forehead.

"Today, something very grave happened," the Headmaster began to explain heavily. "Professor Quirrell has obviously been possessed by Voldemort's spirit. Unfortunately, Professor Snape and I only realised it last night, and we weren't fast enough to think about a method to force his spirit out. Tonight, Voldemort's spirit apparently forced Professor Quirrell to lead a troll into the castle only to advise the same troll later on to kill Professor Quirrell. As soon as the troll killed Professor Quirrell, Voldemort's spirit took possession of his body. The body is, of course, badly injured; however, Voldemort is in possession of a body after merely being a spirit for ten years."

"Fortunately, Professor Snape and I realised immediately what had happened, and we called the Aurors, who have taken Voldemort straight to Azkaban in spite of his injuries. However, considering how powerful he is, I can imagine that he'll be the first person to manage an outbreak from Azkaban, and what is even worse is that he is obviously connected to you through your scar."

"As soon as you're recovered from the flu, I'll begin to teach you Occlumency," Snape continued the Headmaster's explanation. "If you learn how to occlude your mind, you'll hopefully be able to block his thoughts and feelings."

Suddenly, Harry began to whimper, gripping his head as if he was in utmost pain. "He... just... realised that he is in Azkaban," he breathed, ending up in a coughing fit.

His Head of House took a seat on the edge of his bed and gently began to rub circles into the boy's back. "Harry, Madam Pomfrey is going to give you a sleeping draught now, so you'll be able to get some rest from the pain. We're going to take turns staying with you during the night," he said in a soft voice, causing Harry to reach for the professor's cold hand and gratefully squeeze it. "Very well then, Ms. Granger, Ms. Bulstrode, Mr. Zabini, return to your common rooms, Albus and Minerva, if you could take over in a few hours' time, I'm going to take the first shift."

'_How bad can this get, and why is it always me to have strange problems?_' Harry mused in annoyance. '_I thought I was punished enough by this strange illness_.'

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape watched in concern as he finally succumbed to the potion they had just administered and drifted off to sleep.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

To the adults' concern, it took Harry much longer to recover from the wizard's flu than they had expected. Even after the symptoms of the flu were finally gone, his fever remained too high for their liking.

"Please, Madam Pomfrey, let me go to class," Harry begged the Mediwitch every morning, causing her to sigh in exasperation.

"I am sorry, Harry, but as long as your fever is exceeding thirty-nine degrees in the morning, I cannot and I will not allow you to attend classes. We want you to survive the school year, sweetie," Madam Pomfrey told him each time, knowing that he was in no condition to follow a class, let along walk through the huge castle from one classroom to the next. It was nearly the end of November, when the Mediwitch grudgingly allowed Harry out of bed.

Harry was glad to be able to attend classes again, although he noticed that the magic aggravated his condition more than he remembered from before catching the flu, and almost every second day he returned to his room at lunchtime, knowing that he wouldn't be able to go to any of his afternoon classes.

The teachers worriedly observed him, realising that his recent illness seemed to have aggravated his condition greatly. Nevertheless, they couldn't prevent him from falling ill again on the first day of the winter holidays, a few days after the hospital wing had been full with students recovering from a bout of bronchitis. As before, Harry tried as well as he could to hide how bad he felt as he accompanied the teachers to Hogsmeade to see his friends off to the station, knowing that he definitely wouldn't want to spend the first day of the holidays in bed.

On their way back to the castle, Professor Snape asked, "Mr. Potter, are you busy with your homework, or would you care to assist me brew a few potions for the hospital wing?"

"Oh yes, Professor, I'd like that," Harry replied, smiling. '_I love to brew, and it's so cool that he asked me_,' he thought happily as he followed the professor into his private lab. Harry diligently prepared the ingredients for three different potions for the professor, who quietly busied himself with the brewing process right next to his student. Each of them enjoyed the quiet that was only disturbed a few times when Harry had to enquire about the way of preparing a certain ingredient. By the time Harry had finished preparing everything for the third potion, he felt utterly exhausted and unconsciously let out a relieved sigh as he leaned back in his chair, causing the professor to throw him a concerned glance.

Seeing that the boy's eyes were glazed over and his cheeks were more flashed than usual, Snape quickly cast a stasis charm on the potion he was just brewing and turned to his student. "Mr. Potter, you look sick. Are you feeling all right?" he asked softly.

"Not really," Harry admitted, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hide it from the professor, who knew him too well. A few minutes later, he found himself lying on a most comfortable sofa in the professor's living room with a thermometer stuck under his armpit, while the professor was examining his throat, ears and eyes with the help of a light emerging from the tip of his wand.

"Bronchitis, I'm afraid," Snape told him the verdict, frowning at the display indicating the temperature.

Harry had to remain the whole holidays in bed, and once again his illness worsened his overall condition. By the time his first Hogwarts year ended, he had come down with two more illnesses, and the teachers became more and more concerned about his health condition.

"We have to come up with a different solution for his treatment," Snape said to his colleagues during the last staff meeting before the end of the year tests. "What are we going to do with him during the summer holidays by the way?"

"He must return to his relatives," the Headmaster replied, slowly unwrapping a lemon drop.

"No!" Pomfrey, McGonagall and Snape shouted simultaneously.

"He'll be dead by the end of the summer," the Potions Master declared, growling at the Headmaster.

"Exactly," Pomfrey agreed.

"Then you will have to become his guardian and take him in," Dumbledore replied evenly, popping the lemon drop into his mouth.

"How am I supposed to become the guardian of a Potter?" Snape asked in a dangerously quiet voice, ignoring the small voice at the back of his head that had the gall to whisper, '_You already know that Harry is very different from his father and possesses Lily's personality_.'

"Lily would be happy to know that you're her son's guardian, Severus. You're Harry's Head of House, and the boy is already attached to you," Pomfrey said softly, smiling at her younger colleague.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

One morning when Harry woke up, he noticed with surprise that an additional door had appeared in his room overnight. '_I wonder where that leads_,' he mused while he patiently waited for Madam Pomfrey to come and check on him. '_Only two more days and I'll have to return to the Dursleys'. Will they give me potions to take during the holidays?_' he wondered, groaning in despair at the prospect of having to spend the summer with his relatives.

"Good morning, Harry," Madam Pomfrey's voice penetrated his ears, and Harry quickly answered the greeting, feeling immediately reassured by the kind witch's presence. "What is making you so upset?" the Healer asked in concern, noticing that his forehead felt even warmer than normal.

Harry told her about his worries, hurrying because he knew the witch urgently wanted to stick the thermometer under his tongue.

"Oh sweetie, you don't have to worry. You're too ill to return to the Muggle world. Professor Snape is going to become your guardian, so that you'll be able to remain here. The new door over there leads to his private quarters. He wanted to speak with you last night, but since your fever was a tad on the high side, we thought it would be better to let you sleep first. However," she pulled the beeping thermometer out, "your fever is even higher now. Do you have the impression as if you had caught something? Does anything hurt?"

"No." Harry slightly shook his head. "Only my head hurts. Voldemort was very upset during the night, and I didn't sleep well. Maybe I also used a bit too much magic yesterday in the Defence test. Ever since then I haven't been feeling too well."

"All right, Harry. You're going to stay in bed today," Pomfrey said firmly. "I'll inform your teachers."

"No Madam Pomfrey; I can't miss my Transfiguration test," Harry said horrified. "Please let me go."

"I'm afraid not," the Healer replied firmly, placing an ice-cold cloth on his forehead. "Calm down, Harry. Otherwise, you'll only aggravate your condition even further. You'll be able to take your test during the holidays."

Fortunately, Transfiguration was the only test Harry missed, and he managed to complete all of his other exams flawlessly. Too soon for his liking the school year was over and his friends had to return home. Harry promised to write and to ask his new guardian if it would be possible for his friends to visit him during the holidays.

"Hermione, why don't you take Hedwig with you?" he offered to his friend. "I can use a school owl if I want to send a letter."

Hermione happily agreed, and Harry handed her the owl cage, instructing the girl she could leave it at home after the holidays, because Hedwig wouldn't use it at Hogwarts anyway, since she was residing in the owlery all the time.

"Well, it would be nice having her here, but I can understand that Madam Pomfrey doesn't want to have animals in the hospital wing," Millicent said softly.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

When the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station, Professor McGonagall gently laid her arm around Harry's back. "Don't worry, Harry. You're not alone at Hogwarts. A few of us will be here the whole time."

"Yes Professor," Harry replied. "I know that, and I'm very glad that I'm allowed to remain at Hogwarts instead of going back to my horrible relatives. It's just that I never had friends before and that I'm going to miss them terribly."

"We'll think about something to keep you occupied, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered, raising an eyebrow at the boy. "Are you feeling up to a walk through Hogsmeade? We can go and buy your school books for the upcoming school year if you wish, and I'd like to make a short trip to the apothecary."

"I'd love to go to Hogsmeade," Harry replied enthusiastically. "I've never been there, but the Weasley twins have told me a lot about it."

McGonagall let out a snort and chuckled at the Potions Master's annoyed expression. "Well, have fun the two of you," she smiled and joined the other two Heads of House, who were just turning back in the direction of Hogwarts.

Professor Snape led Harry to the bookshop and to the apothecary, before he ushered him into The Three Broomsticks. "Have you ever tried butterbeer?" he queried after signalling Madam Rosmerta that they wanted two butterbeers.

"No sir, but is it all right for me to have one?" Harry asked hesitantly, remembering that Madam Pomfrey had instructed him not to drink any alcohol when she had reluctantly allowed him to attend the Quidditch victory party in the Slytherin common room a few weeks ago.

"Normally, you should completely refrain from drinking alcohol, for example at Quidditch victory parties and such," the professor explained patiently; "however, if you're together with Madam Pomfrey or me, you can fully rely on us, because we know what you can drink without having to fear that it interferes with your potions."

"All right, thank you, sir," Harry replied, feeling very relieved at the professor's reply. "Professor, may I assist again when you have to brew potions for the hospital wing?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, you may assist whenever your condition allows it," Snape replied in a soft voice. "Your room is now connected to my quarters, and you may feel free to enter my quarters at any time. At first, I thought about asking the house-elves to add a room for you to my quarters, but then Madam Pomfrey and I decided that it would be easier for you to remain where you are with a connecting door to my quarters."

An hour later, the two wizards arrived back at the castle. "I'm afraid that Madam Pomfrey will want to check on you and will probably insist that you take a nap," Snape spoke up after a glance in Harry's flushed and exhausted face. "As soon as she allows you to get up again, I'd like you to come to my living room, because I have something I'd like to discuss with you. I might have an idea that could provide an at least partly solution to your problem with the magic fever. It will be very difficult to achieve, and I can't promise that it'll work, but I believe that it's worth a try."

_

* * *

tbc..._

_Thank you very much for your kind reviews! _

_I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


	5. Chapter 5

**Cooling the Magic 5**

"All right," Harry replied, wondering, '_What can that be? Is he going to develop a different potion?_' "Um... Professor, can't you explain your idea to me right away, please? I can't wait to hear about it."

Snape let out a long sigh, quirking an eyebrow. "Very well then, if you let me take your temperature and connect you to the I.V., I'll tell you about it. Lie down and open up please."

Harry obeyed and threw his guardian an expectant look as the man cared for him with gentle hands. '_Feels good to lie down_,' he mused, realising that he had difficulties to keep his eyes open.

"The potion you receive through the I.V. has the effect to cool your magic and with that your body temperature," Snape began to explain softly. "I did some research about cooling powers, and I came to a possible solution. I already discussed my assumption with Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, and they agree with me that it could be a possibility. Since your parents were both Animagi..." Ignoring the gasp Harry let out around the thermometer, he continued, "...it should be possible for you to become an Animagus as well. If you manage to become an ice phoenix, you might be able to cool down your magic just by transforming into your phoenix form for a certain while each day."

Plucking the beeping device from Harry's lips, the professor's expression grew stern. "We'll continue this conversation later on. You need to stay in bed and rest until your fever comes down a bit. Maybe our short excursion was too strenuous for you."

"I loved it though. Thank you so much for taking me to Hogsmeade, Professor," Harry replied softly, unconsciously reaching for the professor's cold hand.

"You don't have to call me professor during the holidays. Considering that I'm your guardian now, you may call me Severus as long as there are no other students around," Snape replied, gently patting Harry's hot hand. "Now, I'm going to alert Madam Pomfrey of your condition. Try to sleep for a while."

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

During the following weeks, Harry could neither complain of being bored nor of feeling lonely. Whenever Madam Pomfrey allowed him out of his room, he spent his time either helping Severus in his private lab or practising the Animagus transformation under Professor McGonagall's watchful eyes. Unfortunately, the practice aggravated his condition, and Harry was never allowed to practise for more than twenty or thirty minutes. Therefore, it took him several months, until he finally managed to transform into an ice phoenix on the last day of the winter holidays.

Over the next few months, Harry spent several hours each day in his phoenix form as well as a few hours connected to the I.V., while Snape and Pomfrey carefully observed him in order to find out if the Animagus transformation would make the potion completely unnecessary. Until the end of the school year, which otherwise passed uneventfully, they found out that being in his ice phoenix form helped bring the fever, which he had been running constantly from the beginning of his first year onwards, down to a slightly elevated temperature. However, it was necessary for him to spend at least six hours a day in his Animagus form, if he wanted to completely avoid the I.V.

Harry also noticed that being in his phoenix form helped him deal with Voldemort's emotions, which he could always sense through his scar, because they didn't cause him as much a headache when he was a phoenix than in his human form. One evening in the first week of holidays, however, the pain coming through the scar was extremely bad.

Harry, who had retired to bed in his phoenix form, unconsciously let out a yelp that brought Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape into his room within seconds. Harry quickly transformed back into his human form, gripping his head in agony as he informed the adults, before he hurriedly transformed back, knowing that he would feel better in his phoenix form. However, Voldemort seemed to be in a terribly bad mood, and Harry's headache became so unbearable that he became extremely upset and returned an enormous bout of magic.

The two adults observed in concern how Harry transformed into his human form, apparently unable to keep himself in his Animagus form, and collapsed on the bed. His scar looked as if it was burning on his forehead.

"Harry, what happened?" Pomfrey tried to speak with the boy, while the Potions Master prepared a new I.V. and connected it to his hand, sensing that he wouldn't be able to transform for a while.

"I don't know what it did to him, but it must have done something, because he is quiet now," Harry mumbled as a violent shiver ran through his body. "So cold," he added, and his teeth began to chatter.

"You probably caused yourself a high fever," Pomfrey said softly, sliding the thermometer between Harry's chattering teeth, while Snape finished the I.V. connection.

"I'll call Albus," the Potions Master announced and hurried away to speak with the Headmaster, who entered the room an instant later. Snape explained what had happened, before Pomfrey told the Headmaster that Harry was burning up with a dangerously high fever. "I suspect that he unconsciously threw his cooling magic at the Dark Lord, and I can only hope that it caused his magic to freeze, so that he turned into a Squib."

"Very well, I'll contact the Ministry and try to pay Voldemort a visit together with one of the Healers of St. Mungo's. Or would you like to accompany me, Severus? It might be faster if you came."

The Slytherin Head agreed, and within twenty-four hours the two professors were granted access to the wizarding prison. Accompanied by a huge group of Aurors, they were allowed to see Voldemort through a fence, which wouldn't allow anyone in or out but made it possible to cast spells. Dumbledore observed Snape casting several diagnostic spells, before he waved his own wand a few times.

"He is a Squib," Snape announced the verdict, causing the group to slowly turn back towards the exit, while Dumbledore once more waved his wand and transfigured the helpless man into a sloth, causing everyone to chuckle.

"Considering who he is, I don't care," Mad Eye Moody growled, ushering Dumbledore towards the exit.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Only a few days later, the Headmaster entered Harry's room in the hospital wing, where Pomfrey, McGonagall and Snape were having breakfast together with Harry, who was still connected to his I.V. Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling madly as he held out the Daily Prophet for everyone to see the main headline.

'_Murder at the wizarding prison: Black dog eats sloth and flees Azkaban.  
Animals suspected to be Sirius Black (dog) and Lord Voldemort (sloth)_.'

"That's why my scar has ceased hurting at all," Harry said, letting out a deep breath of relief as he unconsciously rubbed his forehead.

Professor Snape hurriedly rolled his left sleeve up and let out a small gasp, seeing that the remaining of his Dark Mark had vanished completely. "Thank God, now we don't have to fear the Dark Lord anymore, and I can really concentrate on finding a cure for Harry's problem," he announced, noticing that a small smile began to play on Harry's lips.

**The End**

_Thank you so much for your support throughout this story. I hope you liked it - I especially enjoyed the ending!_

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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